The Lord and the Dragon King
by Balshumet
Summary: She was only trying to escape capture, just long enough to avoid her King's Knights, but it seemed Fate had another idea. Meeting the Ghost Zone's newest Lord wasn't her intention, nor was dragging him into her feud, but he insisted. Perhaps her death could be forestalled, if only Lord Plasmius had the strength to face a Dragon's King.


**Balshumet: Guess who's back? Back again? That's right _me_ people! I know you've missed me, cause I know I've missed you. Don't fret, because I've just had a ****phoenix down shoved in my mouth and it's time for a revival! Expect updates and new fiction because baby I've left this land fallow for too long. This particular story is actually going to _be_ a short story. It should only be 15 chapters or so. Yeah I know short for me!**

 **On the other hand, I mean at 15 chapter and seven thousand or eight thousand words on average that's still like say 100,000+ words. . So uh "short" for me right? The inspiration for this story is basically "hey you know Vlad's past is a blank slate basically so IDK let's fill in some info about how he became so influential in the Zone." plus "Dragons are cool and Ghost Dragons are even cooler!". Astute readers of my other works might know something about what this story is about, but I posted literally forever ago, so I don't imagine anyone knows anymore so yay for surprises.**

 **Warnings for this story: Uh, this is rated T as usual, and well you know my T is a pretty hard one. I don't mean "ok maybe some ten year olds could read this" I mean "seriously teens only". So expect at least canon level violence, curse words, political intrigue, all that good stuff. None of my seriously heavier darker themes though, there will be character death. (have I ever written a story where someone doesn't die for this fandom? The answer has been and continues to be a resounding "no")**

 **Disclaimer(do people still do these?): I, Balshumet, do not and never have owned Danny Phantom. it is the intellectual property of Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and Viacom. I make zippo money, this is an act of love.**

 **I've missed you Danny Phantom fandom, see you below the cut.**

* * *

 **Damsel in Distress**

* * *

She leaned against the cool clammy outcropping feet from the waterfall. This close to the natural wonder, the roar of the falls was utterly deafening. Ordinarily, she'd never venture this close; already she could see the icy waters ruining the delicate fabrics of her skirts. She strained to hear over the rush of the water, listening for the braying of horses or the howls of the pack. Nothing. She peered around the veil of the cascading rapids. Nothing still. Finally, she worked her way back through the swirling freezing grip of the pool below the falls and out of the cave. Nothing once more. Relief, more cool than the tingles from her cold numbed legs, poured through her being. She'd lost-

"There the wench is!"

She gasped and turned to find a cadre of knights settled atop the falls. Over an hour of crouching in freezing water wasted in an instant. She gathered her skirts in her hands and flew off as fast as she could manage. After days on the run, she could barely fly fast enough to outrun the horses. She could almost feel the steaming breath of the knight's steeds on the back of her neck. Her chest heaved with exertion as she pushed her core to its limits. If the knights didn't kill her, the lack of rest and energy would. _I-I can't do this anymore._ She took a deep breath and prepared to turn and face her demise when an unusual glow caught her attention. In the near distance, only a few hundred yards away, was a churning green mass quite unlike a natural energy nova. She could feel the warm thrum of human energy coming from the other side. She made her decision. Taking a moment to steel herself, she flew off with a final reserve of strength. It drew closer to her. Her final chance at salvation… Closer still.

As if sensing her intent, the knights urged the mounts faster. At her current strength it would be almost impossible to sense her if she made it into the human realm. Finally, the tenuous feel of the veil between worlds ghosted across her skin. Inside the pulsing void was something she never expected, a closed door. She jolted to a stop in front of its imposing metal form. She'd never seen so much metal used for a mundane object before. The maiden pressed her hands against the metal, running her fingers across the seam in the middle. It was sealed so closely she couldn't even wedge a nail in between. The calls of the knights' horses shivered down her spine. Their hesitant whinnies and knickers echoed in the veil space. She was trapped. Core pressed into her throat, she pounded her hands into the unyielding metal of the door. It was obviously human made, yet she was unable to phase through _. Perhaps the tales were in error? Perhaps ghosts cannot phase through human objects?_ She slammed her closed fists into the door, begging the God of Mercy, the Goddess of Hospitality, the Patron of travelers, and every other greater force she knew to have her pleading strikes answered. An odd whistle in the voids' eerie silence was her only warning. Maybe Phenapols' Mercy wasn't so impossible to be called upon, for the whistle gave her enough time to roll away from the door. A cacophonous clang rang out through the small space as she peddled back towards one of the sides of the tunnel. Unfortunately, the leader of her pursuers now stood between her and her only exit. The last rings of the knight's blow against the door were just fading when her back met the limits of the tunnel between worlds.

She wouldn't beg. To do so would shame her family's name, and she'd done enough of that to last the rest of her House's days. The maiden took a step away from the curved wall and drew a small dagger. She did not come from a house of knights and nobles to die without a blade in her hands. The pulse of her core skipped and then doubled in time when the leader dismounted to meet her on equal ground. She strode away from the edge of the tunnel, dagger grasped tightly between trembling fingers. Weakness. Her shoulders squared and she stilled her shaking. Turning to place the cold metal of the door at her back, she took a defense stance and waited. One beat, two, three of her racing core passed before the knight made for her position. She dived away. The ringing squeal of metal against metal rang into the tunnel once more. He gave her no time to set her feet before attacking. She slid under his strike, the back swing catching some of her wet skirts. The slick from the falls still clung to her skin, making it difficult to control her slide. She slammed uncontrolled into the door. She rolled over to face a sword at her throat.

"You have fought exceptionally maiden. Go now to your rest. I will inform your family of your honorable death upon my return." The leader drew back his weapon for one final swing. She rolled to the side and thrust her dagger between his wrist guard and gantlet as hard as she could. The knight snatched his arm away, wrenching the weapon from her hands. Pressed against the walls of the tunnel once again, she smiled in satisfaction as ectoplasm, bright and green, leaked from between the fisted grip of his fingers.

"Nay, great knight, now I have fought well. The victory is yours, but I leave this realm having satisfied my own pride, and the valor my house demands." She closed her eyes as the clear whistle of his strike filled the air.

Before the bite of the sword met her flesh, a loud grinding sound echoed into the void. She turned to her right, and startled when the previously impassible door slide open. _Perhaps of should have asked Zerika for deliverance instead of Phenapols._ Knowing chance never came twice, she used the knights' distraction to charge though the open door. No matter what awaited her on the other side, it was better than certain death.

She found herself floating in the middle of an astounding room. Floor to ceiling, it was covered in an array of metals and glass. There were solid boxes covered with blinking lights and glass windows showing all types of scenes. One solitary wall was covered with a collection of what could only be weapons. Upon closer inspection, the scenes in the windows were moving as if one were viewing things happening just outside the walls, despite how disparate those images were. _What manner of place is this?_ Before she could ponder her new surroundings any further, her thoughts were interrupted by the clatter of the knights' metallic armor. She spun back to meet them; the shredded remains of her skirts clinging to her lower legs.

"Who are you?" a strong voice cut through her focus, drawing her attention away from the knights before her. That momentary lapse almost cost her head. The sting of the blade across her cheek snapped the maiden's mind back to the lead knight. She'd fallen to the floor to avoid his strike. To her surprise, she found him working his way back to his feet all the way back in the tunnel; his armor still steaming from an energy blast. She felt her arms shaking as her hands sat limply against the icy tile. Useless. Her legs refused to bear her weight against the stronger pull of the earth. More useless. Fingers curled, hands slipping against the floor, she scooted away from the open door. She leaned her head back when she sensed a presence behind her. She caught of glimpse of dark clothing and bright white hair before the knights recovered enough to speak and her attention snapped back to them.

"You are interfering with the business of the Dragon King human; stand aside!" The leader punctuated his demand by pointing his sword at the man behind her. She slid back into his legs, warm-so humanly hot- while striving to regain her feet. She felt him step away, shivering breaking out across her skin from the loss of heat, and watched him move between her and the King's knights.

"And you are infringing on my territory. This is your only warning, leave through that portal immediately or face me in combat." The remaining knights drew their weapons.

"You are in no position to make demands human. We only wish to carry out our liege's orders. Surrender the maiden, and we will be gone from your territory." She watched as the human crossed his arms and glanced down at her with a furrowed brow.

"And when I surrender her to you, do you intend on skewering her using that sword?"

She heard the knight scoff inside his helmet. "What concern is it of yours?" He asked while motioning his men into a semi-circle just inside the room.

"I don't make a habit of 'surrendering' helpless women to certain death." He un-crossed his arms and clasped them behind his back, a faint pink glow growing between them.

"This is your last-"

"-And I decline. Take you men and leave, before I'm forced to make you." The faint glow and transformed into a brilliant one, hidden only by the ferocity of the room's lighting.

The lead knight snorted before taking his weapon between both his hands. "I can promise you this wench is not worth your life, but so be it." He motioned for the rest of the men to spread out farther, blocking escape back into the Ghost Zone, before charging at the man before her.

He was met full force with an energy blast, sending him skidding across the earth, back into the tunnel. The rest of the knights rushed his position, and she half expected him to simply step aside and let them finish their work. Instead a flash of black light filled the room and when she regained her wits, he was human no longer. _By the Goddess Zerika, what is happening?!_ She managed to find her feet and stumbled behind one of the many metal boxes in the room, shamefully cowering behind it as blasts flew throughout the room. Where moments ago she was sure her would be rescuer was entirely human, the fierce powerful new energy said otherwise.

Before long, the sounds of battle had faded into the pained groans of defeat. She risked a glance over the edge of the box. Laid out around the room were the blast scorched suits of the knights, moaning in pain and trying to find their wits. The last being standing, or floating as the case was, was her mysterious rescuer. Crackling with energy, glowing brighter than any ghost left upright in the room; he calmly dropped back to the floor before giving the area a once over. He seemed satisfied with the results of the fight, because he dismissed the groaning knights from his notice and turned to face her. "Now, where were we? I believe I asked your name my dear."

Vibrant, piercing red eyes filled her vision. His presence was so commanding; she couldn't look away. As she groped for the words to answer his query, the days of running caught up with her. The last thing she saw was the return of the concerned wrinkle to his brows before everything went dark.

* * *

Vlad stared down at the unconscious ghostly woman with a scowl. When he heard the racket coming from the back of his lab, he'd assumed Skulker's codes had stopped working again, and opened the doors to come met him. When he made it back to greet him, he'd instead found some low level ghost woman gapping at the machinery around his lab. He'd had half of mind to scare her back out the way she came when, God help him, knights of all things stomped into the lab after her. When his distraction had nearly proven fatal, the reason for her frantic pounding had become clear. Despite the fact he preferred to stay out of Ghost Zone business, he wasn't about to watch a bunch of armed men murder a women, ghostly or no, in his lab. That unfortunately led to the battle, and the unconscious dirt streaked ghost collapsed on his lab floor. He sighed when another groan reverberated from the entrance to the portal. _I may have over done it._ It would take days to clean up the mess the fight had just made, and some of his more sensitive equipment was likely destroyed.

"You!" The lead knight wobbled his way back to his feet. Ectoplasm oozed from between a gash in his chest plate at his side. Vlad watched as the ghost gripped at the half melted hole where ectoplasm leaked from his armor. _I hope that hurts as badly as it looks._ "You will regret this trespass against my King! You have no idea whose business with which you trifle!"

Vlad felt a sneer settle on his face. As if he hadn't heard that threat a hundred times already. "Well, I'm sure you'll crawl back to whoever sent you to tell him _all_ about how I defeated you. Now, pick up what's left of your men, and get out." The conversation over in his opinion, he turned his back, and strode over to the ghost he'd just trashed half his lab over. He sensed the attack and raised a shield before he'd consciously recognized the threat.

The leader of his current headache was back on his feet and holding a shaking, smoking gantlet in his direction, with what he could only assume was a glare glowing from behind his helmet. "You just don't quit. Do I have to kill you before you'll get the message?"

"Slay me or not villain, but I will not be the last, if you do not relinquish the female." He watched as the knight straightened his back from a pained hunch. The half ghost rolled his eyes at the false bravado in the leader's words. He'd defeated them in minutes. The air practically buzzed with raw anger and frustrated battle lust. They would be back, of course, and with reinforcements more suited to fighting him instead of tracking down some random woman. "We will return, and with more knights we will have her." This time he did snort, rather loudly.

"Yes well, I wish you all the luck in the world actually accomplishing your goal." Vlad quipped before completely dismissing the recovering men from his attention. He walked over to the prone female ghost on the lab floor as the lock on the ghost portal slammed closed. Other than the shallow cut to her cheek and the rips in her skirt, the ghost looked unharmed. No injuries accounted for her unconsciousness, but if the knight had been pursuing her for any length of time, she was likely just exhausted. Vlad was just beginning to work out where to move her until she awakened when the chime for the portal went off. Skulker arrived with a whir of metal and a rush of spectral energy.

"What in the Zone happened in here?' he asked, eyes roving over the resulting carnage of the skirmish.

"A battle." Vlad answered flatly, mind still focused on the ghost on the floor.

"Obviously, but over-" Skulker stopped short as his eyes drifted to the unconscious woman on the floor. "Lover's spate?" he joked at the sight at his feet. The hunter laughed when he turned and glared in his direction. He could feel the annoyance shift towards violent intent, the thrill of the short fight still buzzing in his veins. The other ghost held up his hands to placate him. "Knowing you, you're probably just defending her honor, or some such nonsense. Who is it this time?"

The sour look on Vlad's face melted off to be replaced with one of contemplation when he recalled the knight's words. "Skulker?" he paused waiting for the hunter to acknowledge him.

"What?" the hunter grumbled by the wreckage of the instruments he'd been using during his last visit. He suppressed a wince. That was a lot of ruined data they'd have to redo.

"Have you ever heard of the Dragon King?" from the way the ghost's absent picking at the mental scraps halted, he had.

"The King of the Dragon lands is a powerful and _dangerous_ ghost." Skulker stopped to turn and face him with crossed arms. "Don't tell me you've run into draconic business."

"That's what the men after her claimed."

"What did they look like?" he asked while floating over to frown down at the woman.

"I don't know, knights I suppose. Black armor," he paused to bend down and scoop up his ghostly guest. "About half a dozen, trained in group tactics. I didn't recognize the heraldry, but I do recall the colors, red and purple. Very striking against the black metal, but I didn't notice any dragons or flames-"

"The flag and heraldry of the Dragon lands don't include either, but it is the colors you described."

Vlad glanced over in his direction. The ghost looked like he was getting a migraine, it would be amusing if Skulker wasn't so steely nerved. He watched as the hunter flexed the still shiny new gauntlet connected to his improved suit, obviously lost in thought. He rounded the last corner to float into the front of the lab in silence, waiting for the other man to continue.

"Maybe for once, you could try diplomacy before shooting up the place?" Skulker said before floating after him towards the front of the lab.

The air temperature rose as they moved away from the tingling cool of the portal. The front of the lab was designed with more comfort in mind, if you could call it that. The majority of the heavy equipment was in the back half of the lab leaving the rest for monitoring and the occasional chair that wouldn't leave your back in knots. There was a bare cot pressed into one corner with sheets hastily piled on top. Vlad eyed the twisted knots of the sheets on the cot before continuing towards the stairs. _I should have cleaned up in here…well I would have if I'd known I'd have guests._

Skulker raised an eyebrow, which he studiously ignored. Even if the cot had been clean, you didn't leave people feeling grateful by having them wake up on a hard cot surrounded by metal. The rooms upstairs lent themselves much more to a certain mystique and frank intimidation, and he'd learned enough to know leaving someone flat-footed always worked to your advantage. They drifted silently up the staircase and through the study, the usually roaring fire banked for the moment. Vlad idly remembered he forgot to stoke it in the first place. The last two weeks had been a blur of activity between his companies and the new data coming from the probes. He immediately regretted the inattentiveness though; the chill in this part of the mansion was all pervasive without it. Although the cold bothered him much less than the average human, between the time of year and the ghost portal below, he could see his breath misting in the air.

He resisted the urge to uncomfortably shift the cold wet burden in his arms. Damn. He really shouldn't have let the fire go out. Luckily, ghosts were immune to the cold, but he was going to be fighting down shivers for _hours_ if he didn't warm up by a fire. _I could turn on the heat._ He almost didn't complete the thought, even if it wasn't a matter of money, it was just impractical. The stone didn't take to temperature changes well.

They rounded a final corner before he phased through a closed door. A generic guest bedroom lay on the other side, lacking either the forced opulence or the restrained style common to the parts of the mansion that saw his personal stylistic touch. He'd let some well paid and opinionated interior designer create much of the inoffensive décor in the guest areas of the castle.

Vlad looked around for a moment before gently setting the ghost woman on top of the bedspread. He considered the spreading wetness soaking into the sheets before dismissing it. A little water wouldn't destroy the cotton. He motioned back towards the closed door and they drifted back outside and up the hall a few rooms to an equally inoffensive sitting room. _How much did I pay these people to create these banal spaces?_

"Alright," Skulker started after leaning against the central table, "want to start from the beginning?"

"There isn't much more to tell. I heard an unholy racket coming from the back of the lab, figured you'd been locked out, and opened it remotely. When I got back to the portal, there was the woman standing about gawking at things. And before I could get a straight answer out of her, the knights showed up and…" Vlad trailed off wincing as the remembered scent of fried electronics and the sight of warped steel passed through his mind. "After that, I ran off the knights and you arrived. It was over quickly and my conversation with the lead knight wasn't very enlightening. We were too busy trading blows to trade info." He lips thinned into a line as he thought over the scant conversation he'd had with his opponent. He hadn't even said the woman's name. "Of course she fainted before I could get any information from _her_ either. Just my luck," he said before moving to sit in a chair opposite Skulker. "However, it seems my Zone 'Lore Master' has arrived, any useful knowledge to impart on the subject?" Vlad suppressed a chuckle at the exasperated look on Skulker's face, paring his amusement down to only a smirk.

"Well that depends, what did you want to know? I've already told you-"

"-Oh yes very dangerous! Don't do it Plasmius, you'll die for sure-"

"-You will! One of these days you'll bite off more than you can chew and this is likely the time."

"Indulge me Skulker. You know me. I won't take on something with no forethought, but trying to keep the info from me won't stop me."

"Vlad," Skulker groaned.

"-I haven't made a decision just-"

"-Indulge the same delusions that brought down the Vampire Clans." Skulker held up a hand before he could argue further. "I didn't help you with that and you can expect I won't help you with this." The ghost hunter blew out a sigh, "but I'll give you some background so you don't go shaking down some unsuspecting specter." He settled deeper into his chair as Skulker straightened and started him down with a scowl that he'd probably trademarked just for these occasions. "The Dragon King is an ancient and power ghost. The fifth in his line to rule, he counted both Dracul and Pariah as his allies. Wipe that misplaced smirk off your face; Dracul got complacent. In his heyday and actually giving his opponents a fair assessment, he ruled a significant portion of the Eastern Known Zone. You got lucky and he still nearly killed you…hell he succeeded after a fashion." He felt the crawling sensation of banked anger roll through his gut. It had been four years. He still wanted to bring the bastard back to kill him a second or fifth time. He huffed out a breath when Skulker rolled his eyes, presumably at his expression.

"In any case, King Glaurung isn't the last of the old leaders for nothing. Two impetuous heirs with foolish coups, a dozen other families' grabbing for power, and three separate invasions, one by Pariah himself, have been repelled under his reign. He's a clever and experienced ghost. And unlike Dracul, he won't underestimate you."

"This is beginning to sound like 'don't challenge your betters Vlad'."

"Damn it Plasmius, do you want my knowledge and opinion or not?" Skulker waited until he settled and nodded before continuing. "Anyway, the biggest thing you need to worry about is his subjects. He commands nearly one million souls. Many a knight trained in the Old Ways from the Unification Wars still fight under his banner. The knights you faced are his new guard I think. Black with red and purple, level five tops, with close cropped unadorned helmets?"Vlad nodded absently so the hunter continued, "the royal guard and the elite troops of the army are known as the **Dragon's Flame** and _they_ wear the heraldry of the House Glaurung. They are at least a level six with the commanding officers topping out around 7.5."

"Well…that could be a problem."

Skulker snorted. He tried not to let the other ghost's amusement get to him. "The strongest warrior is the King himself. Knowing your penchant for picking a fight with the biggest, toughest ghost around, you need to listen to this." The hunter waited, truly paused, until he had the Vlad's full attention before continuing, "It's said that Uther Glaurung fought Pariah Dark to a draw in the time of the Unification Wars. That's why the Dragonlands still wave their own flag. Pariah sent two commanders in separate campaigns to take the lands. When those failed, he came himself. Their armies were evenly matched, Dark's numbers by Uther's guile and power. Finally, Pariah demanded the rite of single combat. Legend says the battle raged days before they called a truce. Unlike Dracul or Emrackul, the Dragon King met Pariah Dark as an equal and _together_ their combined forces conquered the Zone."

"If so, then why is Pariah Dark called the 'King of Ghosts'?"

"King Glaurung is ultimately isolationist. He had no interest in ruling the Zone and likely provided troops in order to stop the war at his border. When Pariah was locked away, he and the Dragonlands withdrew from wider Zone politics and Dark's Empire dissolved back into minor territories. Indeed, to everyone's benefit, the only other ghost alive who could have controlled the whole Zone had no interest in it." Skulker paused. Without the distraction, he noticed his ghost sense pulsed harder in his chest as the energy a few rooms over flared more active. Their guest was feigning sleep a few rooms down, and had been for some time. He watched the other ghost frown down into his sensors before shrugging, likely having concluded the same thing. "One final word halfa," he said before they slipped out of the room, "the Dragon King is well over a level eight. I haven't any reading to confirm of course, but he's the most powerful ghost still living, _yourself_ included. For once since I've known you, don't pick a fight." The other ghost sighed and rubbed at his temple in some combination of annoyance and amusement. He was half tempted to start something with the Dragonlands just to see the look on Skulker's face.

"Believe it or not Skulker, I don't like fighting. It seems instead my lot in life for battle to come to me. Cheer up my dour friend; I have listened to your advice. We'll try it the easy way this time. Perhaps our mysterious guest can give us more information." The matter settled for the moment, the two men phased through the wall. Their fake sleeper deserved the surprise.

* * *

The smooth sensation of silk sheets greeted her upon awakening. She frowned and rubbed her arms against the bedding. _No. Not silk._ She thought marginally more awake. The drag of her abrasions against the unfamiliar material kept her from drifting back to sleep. Where had she gotten them? Under the irritated scratches, her muscles ached and her core pounded. The last few days of frantic fleeing crawled its way from the depths of her subconscious, sliding across her mind's eye with a fatigue stained tinge. She had…and the door…the knights? Vanquished. She remembered that much. Her rescuer must have placed her in the bed after she fainted.

 _How long have I been asleep?_ She wondered while stretching her arms over her head. She slid her newly opened eyes over the room. Plush comforter on a dark wood four poster complete with a deep burgundy canopy, a thick looking beige carpet stretching from one end of the room to the other, and finally a single door-the obvious exit. She slipped from the bed and glided towards the door. From across the room, it was difficult to tell if it was locked. Everything was so much brighter here, washed out from her eyes' over-exposure to light. She felt her eyes pulse in stabbing pain as she drifted to the door. She pressed a hand to the wood and reached for the knob. It glinted excruciatingly in the strong light. A quick turn of the handle found the door unlocked. She felt a prickle of goose bumps along her arms and a flutter in her core. Was this some sort of trap? _But what good would locking me in do if the rumors about the Human World are true?_ Her hand hesitated around the knob, mind caught in a loop around the wisdom of leaving the room. _I could_ -

"Something about that door particularly interesting my dear?"

She whirled to place her back against the wall. Standing in the middle of the room was the ghost to whom she owed her life. Behind him floated a new ghost with gleaming metal and a menacing smile. She squinted to look at him behind her rescuers' shoulder. Why must everything reflect and _glow_ so in the Human World? She watched as the ghost's predatory grin increased a few notches. _An ally?_ She resisted the urge to bite her lip and stepped away from the wall. She gripped her still damp skirts, what remained of them, and dipped into a low curtsy. She owed him a debt and held no rank. The thought didn't quiet the hiss of embarrassed pride in her mind. "I meant only to find you and thank you properly. Forgive my weakness earlier for delaying an appropriate expression of gratitude. I owe you the debt of my life good warrior. To whom do I owe such thanks?" She straightened slightly to gaze at him from beneath her long curls. An ache blossomed in her chest wrapping around a seed of melancholy. A pity she'd have to cut them now.

"Vlad Plasmius."

Only years of schooling in etiquette kept her from rocketing up ram-rod straight to gape. "Forgive me sir," she said settling down into the fullness of the pose once again, "but do you mean _Lord_ Plasmius of the East?"

"I-yes well, no. I'm that ghost, but-"

"His lordship isn't much fond of titles." The metal clad ghost spoke with an amused tone.

She felt the burn of ire stirring in her core. Ghost Zone Lords deserved more respect than a flippant tone and open amusement. "Forgive me for not recognizing you sooner my Lord. His Lordship has my deepest gratitude for protecting me from the knights of Arachtalamh, and my apologies for involving you in my feud. I promise to leave your territory as soon as you are satisfied I have made amends for the trouble I have caused." She said before straightening out of the curtsey with a wobble of aching legs. Her mother was surely glaring across the Zone at her for such a shameful lack of grace. Rubbing her hands across the tops of her thighs, she was suddenly acutely aware of her destroyed skirts and the damp she left in the bed and even where she now stood. Her belly twisted with distaste, as if it wasn't enough to be standing before the Ghost Zone's newest Lord in ripped rags she had to further compound her embarrassment by dirtying _his_ things as well.

"Ah, yes about those knights, why where they after you? You seem too polite to earn the wrath of an entire cadre of fighters."

She pursed her lips around her reply. It was a delicate matter for…the family she no longer belonged among. _Obligation_. Why was her life nothing but obligation?

"What's the matter female? Dragon's Flame burn out your tongue?" The metal clad ghost needled from over the Lord's shoulder. She allowed her displeasure to glimmer in her eyes for a moment. She then turned to the Lord to answer. He spoke first.

"Skulker, at least _pretend_ you have manners for a few minutes." Lord Plasmius reprimanded with a glance behind him. "You don't have to answer that," he said addressing her once more, "perhaps instead you could tell me your name?" He sent her a small smile. That, at least, was encouraging.

She ignored the pulse of panic radiating out from her center in favor of a small curtsey. "Calypso my Lord." Before she had straightened, the metal ghost had glided to the Lord's left side.

" _Just_ Calypso?" the metallic one- _Skulker_ -inquired. When Lord Plasmius turned a curious look in Skulker's direction, he continued, "most ghosts in the Dragon Lands have a uh-family or Clan name. Even the servants supposedly." He passed a curious look in her direction.

"I have no family sir. It is only Calypso."

She heard him snort loudly before he continued his half-interrogation, "I doubt that, ghosts as powerful or well-cultured as you don't just spring from the Nova Clouds." He drifted in front of Lord Plasmius to eye her more closely.

She gritted her teeth, but kept her anger and frustration from showing further. Who was he to cut across a Lord's sight as he pleased? Calypso frowned slightly and clasped her hands in front of her to stop them from shaking. The need to throttle him for disrespect grew ever harder to ignore. "As I said sir, there is only I. Not all who live in the Arachtalamh have family or are part of a Clan."

"Well, you don't live there any more…why is that exactly?" He was practically leering at her with his arms crossed at this point.

This time her annoyance flitted openly across her face. "As it happens sir, it is a result of the knights trying to slay me." She didn't owe _him_ any answers and would be thrice cursed before she gave him any.

"Yes but w-"

"Enough Skulker!" Lord Plasmius pressed his way in front of him and turned to stare down the other ghost.

"Oh come on Vlad-"

"No." He hissed flatly. He waited a few moments before, assured he would relent, he turned back towards her. The metal ghost scrunched up his amazingly expressive face at the dismissal. "Unless they are about to bust down the doors, it's ultimately irrelevant. And to be honest, I'd love to see them make the attempt…" he trailed off with a wicked gleam in his eye.

The sensation of bloodlust and battle thrill washed through the room with a wave of his energy. It prickled across her skin and led to her suppressing shivers. She would be uneasy if that mix of attention had been focused on her.

He hummed before waving a hand, "whether they keep their promise to return to not, you are welcome to stay." He paused looking thoughtful before continuing, "as for repaying me…" he paused again and she felt a coal of dread stir in her core. "Don't worry about it. I'm not about to demand repayment for doing the right thing." He finished with a shrug.

She huffed out a breath she had drawn at his final pause.

"You can do what you'd like to repay me if your honor demands, but there's no obligation. You're free to leave whenever you wish, but I'd suggest resting before leaving. You were rather exhausted." He sent an appraising look from the head of her form to the bottom.

"This room?" She started and then stopped. She had already slept more than she had on any of the days of her frantic flight. The bed was warm, the sheets and bedding soft, surely she need not sully more sheets with her damp and filth.

"It is unlikely to be fully restorative I'm afraid. There is no spectral energy for you to absorb."

She closed her eyes and reached out with a wave of her power. The exertion made her core ache. True to his words, the space only faintly echoed with the residue of ghostly power. What remained of hers and the Lord's own stretched thin across room and his own beyond the confined space. The metal Skulker's energy though was nowhere to be found. He either had not been here long, or the suit he wore bore a stronger resemblance to the armor of Arachtalamh knights than she had imagined. Calypso opened her eyes and twisted a few curls away from her face. If she couldn't stay here, a secondary option was a space soaked in spectral energy. The most likely candidate involved the Lord's…personal living space. He had insisted he expected no…repayment of her debt, no obligation for her to do so. Still, that was entirely on his whim and he was well within his rights to change his mind and demand something of her. The Ghost Zone was surprisingly empty of information or rumor of its newest Lord. That more than anything made her uneasy. "I see." She started before staring down at her ruined shoes. "Is there somewhere you'd feel was more suitable?" At least this way, she'd get a chance to gauge his reactions.

She watched has his face slide blanker with thought, before his eyes focused slightly over her left shoulder. He hummed for a moment before focusing back on her. Even though the exertion pained her, she stretched her senses back into the room. The Lord seemed to radiate emotion through his energy in a manner most commonly found in those unused to subduing it.

"Well, you could stay in the lab, that has the most spectral energy by far, but it is very uncomfortable. Not a place really meant for sleep." He waved his hand briefly, dismissing it as quickly as it came. "A second option would be, ah, where I spend most of my time, but I imagine you'd find sleeping on a coach in a sitting room more uncomfortable than the lab." A wave of amusement came from him before it settled back into something more neutral. She felt knots starting to twist in her gut at the thought of amusement at her discomfort before he continued, "in that case, this room is as good as any other. I'll have to drag up a generator from the lab, but it's the best solution…unless you'd prefer to pick out your own room from the guest wing?" Gentler probing of his energy revealed only polite interest and genuine but modest concern. Calypso's stomach stopped pitching as she came to a decision, about the room and the Lord's apparent character.

"This room is more than adequate my Lord, I'd hate to make more of a nuisance of myself than I already have. I thank you for your hospitality and offer of temporary shelter." She paused and curtseyed once more. Straightening, she ignored the hard burn in her legs, "I'd be more than happy to assist any servants with the mundane task of transportation of the generator." She honestly had no idea what a 'generator' was, but if it could be simply lifted and moved about, she could manage that at least. She could feel her sense of pride prickling at her previous uselessness, and intended to rectify that problem immediately. Calypso felt her lips try to fall into a frown when he waved a hand dismissively.

"I appreciate the offer my dear, but the generator is rather sensitive equipment, and requires a more experienced touch. I'll have Skulker transport and set up the machine." The glow of misplaced smugness warmed her core at the frustrated look on the other ghost's face. She had enough self control to keep it from her expression, but she'd be twice lying if she didn't deeply enjoy the off-putting metal ones discomfort.

"If that is your wish my Lord," she paused and glanced at the sullied bed sheets again, and then down at her own appearance. Ordinarily, she wouldn't press on the subject, but her current clothing was inadequate. "One request?" She waited until she had his attention again from the ferverous conversation taking place between to the two male ghosts. "Would you have some place I could hang this dress to dry, and something to replace it with while I slept? I would not wish to create a larger mess by continuing to leave dirty water and mud on everything I touch." Calypso watched as Lord Plasmius blinked as if taking in her full appearance for the first time. Another wave of amusement rolled gently through the room.

"I should think a replacement for that dress and a nightgown is the least I can do. I'll have someone bring something in after the generator is seen to." With that, the Lord and the obnoxious metal one swept past her out of the room. She dipped a hasty curtsy to them as they left, peeved to have to show respect to Skulker by proxy since he left with Lord Plasmius.

She surveyed the room after they left before drifting back to sit on the bed and wait patiently out of the way for Skulker to return to set up the generator machine. To his credit, the wait wasn't long, and in far less time than she had assumed, he had set up an amazing array of blinking lights and cold metal. Soon after, the room had filled with blessed pure energy rather similar to standing near an Energy Nova. She dipped her head in acknowledgement after he finished working with the device. Her own aggravation at him aside, he was clearly an important member of the Lord's entourage or court. Still, she had to fight back genuine snickers when he delivered her clothing with an angry, uncomfortable sneer frozen on his face. _It seems his Lordship considers servants' work a proper punishment for ill behavior. At the very least, it is the most amusing thing to happen to me in the last while._ He showed her the bathroom she could use for dressing and promptly retreated from the room, still buzzing muted anger for being made to make maid deliveries.

By the time she'd re-dressed and sat back upon the bedding, the sheets had been changed and her core was desperately weary. The few snatches of unconsciousness she'd had while on the run and even in the Lord's territory had hardly been restful. As she slid underneath the cool and smooth sheets, her mind was left wandering through the day's events. _Tomorrow shall be…a most intriguing day._ She thought before drifting into a fitful sleep.

* * *

 **Balshumet: Wooo, how'd you people like chapter one? Hopefully, you appreciated it, because writing in third limited is a new thing for me. Tell me what you think of our mystery lady, cause I'd love to know.**

 **As for an update schedule, uh don't ask me. I'd love to get back to updating multiple stories and chapters every week while trading off like a good writer, but I can't say that will happen. I have to get back into the grove first. Good news is, I already know all of the plot and twists for this story, I just have to write it. Bad news is, this is an old school style fanfic, which means it updates as I get finished with new chapters. So here's hoping to hold myself to the grind stone. Let's say, I update this twice a month on Sundays?**

 **So first and third Sundays of every month, this gets an update. At twice a month that's not so bad, and will give me time to stay on top of my other long stories which are all LONG over due for updates themselves.**

 **Speaking of which, Bittersweet Future, will have an update literally right after this posts. So if you're a reader of mine who has been waiting ages for an update, prepare for the best day ever!**

 **As always my lovelies, R &R, and see you on the 21st.**


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